


Minion, the Reluctant Hero

by FloodFeSTeR



Category: Fallout 3, Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Action/Adventure, Androids, Awkward Sexual Situations, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Consent Issues, Cybernetics, Daddy Issues, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Emotional Constipation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Girls with Guns, Gun Violence, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insanity, Loss of Trust, M/M, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Mystery, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape/Non-con Elements, Science Fiction, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Identity, Sexual Tension, Slavery, Teasing, Trust Issues, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:32:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4530834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloodFeSTeR/pseuds/FloodFeSTeR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>***tags added as we go because I don't want to spoil too much***</p><p>Minion isn't your typical crazy, she's got an extra something to add to the jumbled mess upstairs.<br/>She likes being free, saying fuck you to her father she should be looking for. On the mission for a bodyguard - and not the curb her loneliness, she insists - she frees an ancient ghoul who helps her in more ways than either realize.<br/>Along her path to - unconsciously - save the Wasteland and destroy an old enemy, she'll gain friends, deal with a lost love, lose some loved ones and pieces of herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I :: Broken Towns, Broken Friends ::

**Author's Note:**

> Writer: random-uncanon
> 
> Story id: 4917193
> 
> Original Title: She Doesn't Like It When You Call Her That
> 
> Basically just a rewrite of story above, but of course I am adding a few things. But these aren't huge changes so no worries. Same concept, same varied chapter lengths. All rights to the original story - plot, title, character and all - belong to strykemeister on fan fiction.net

The sun is bright.

I'm a fucking poet.

I rub my watery eyes with the sleeve of my jumpsuit, clenching the handle of a bloody nightstick in my hand. I blink away the pain and look over the dry, brown, expanse of land in front of me. When they said there was nothing but a Wasteland out here, I didn't really think it would be this bad.

I sigh and put back on the shades -- _who the hell needs shades in a Vault, anyway?_ \-- I swiped from a dead body onto my face, trying to look around better. Nothing but a broken town below me. Great. I sigh and begin to pick my way down to better leveled ground. I fell a couple times. . .ok, I fell a lot. But the adrenaline was giving way to vertigo and I was lucky I was still awake. So I just tried to steady myself on an uneven road and eventually made it to the middle of the broken town.

I stared at the sign in front of me for a moment, concerned by the flimsy writing in spray paint, the ugly yellow color reminding me of worse things.

Then there was a gun shot.

For a moment, I thought I was back in the Vault and whirled around, nightstick above my head.

 _I would rather Officer Mack_ , my consciousness hisses.

There's a grubby man in shorts behind me, this weird strap across his chest. He's reloading a gun and I need to react. I charge, ready to swing the baton down on his head. I stumble and dug as he raises his gun, the bullets whizzing over my head. I skid into the dirt between his legs and swing my baton up but he stumbles back, firing blindly; I could shoot better than him and I had only ever practiced with a BB gun.

The fact really seems to piss him off as the clip clicks empty, so he swings a fist down, missing my face by inches and slamming into the broken concrete; he just doesn't know I spent most of my life running and dodging crappy punches like his.

"Little bitch," he snarls and I scramble to my feet.

I raise my baton above my head, oblivious to the hiss that penetrates the air around us, getting ready to swing down. Until I notice the faint trail of smoke coming from his sternum.

I furrow my brow, slowly lowering my baton as he tugs away his shirt, revealing a very small hole that. . .goes clear through him.

He looks up, eyes bugging as his gun trembles in his hand. When he drops it I nudge him in the chest with the end of my baton. He lets out this pained whine and falls stiffly to the ground. I giggle, lowering the baton, then notice the weird floating ball...well, I guess it would be staring at me. The front of it is an obvious speaker but no words come out, no tune, just this belch of static.

"Um," I hesitate. "Hi there. . ."

It swerves around in front of me and I smile a little; I was good with robots. The one we'd had in the Vault may have been programmed to be nice but even after the dozen or so times I reprogrammed him, he never seemed to be upset about it; it may have been useless to mention but robots were a lot more aware and intelligent than most people thought.

They were a Hell of a lot nicer to, this little guy being a prime example.

"Hey, maybe if I find a town. . .I can fix you up a little."

It lets out a shrill whistle that I take as a yes, it makes me cringe. I think I've seen this model before, but I'd have to see a manual on it first. I look back at the sign with the gross yellow words, mutter 'Megaton' then look back to the robot.

"I guess Megaton is our best shot, little guy."

The robot hisses again and I bite my lip, smiling around my teeth. Ok, so maybe the outside wasn't so bad after all. But this Megaton place would really determine that for me.

* * *

It must be odd seeing a girl stumbling around with a dented ball floating around her. At least, the look I'm getting from this odd guy sitting on the ground says that, but maybe its just the sun in my eyes. As I press further past him, his look still confirms my suspicions but I don't really give a flying fuck.

The place is weird, it just looks like a giant pile of scrap metal. Is that a turbine? I pause, staring at it with honest, wide eyed curiosity. The turbine is moving slow, as I get closer, it begins to speed up. Fire belches out between the blades and I yelp, stumbling back a couple steps.

"Shit," I sputter, landing on the ground. The floating ball hovers around me, the static genuinely beginning to bother me. "What the hell," I mutter, rubbing the back of my head.

Oh great, a giant dead. . .what is that? There's a few guys using saws to cut it's legs off, crack open its hard, well I guess that would be a shell. The guys glare at me and I get up, whistling my way past the still rising doors into the town.

The town is shaped like a bowl and I find that really funny for some reason, my curiosity pulling me forward towards this odd shape-thing in the middle of town. My nose crinkles as I walk past this splotchy, red, two-headed cow. It smells like shit, or maybe that's coming from its owner. Either way, the smell over powers my curiosity and I turn around, walking up a ramp, following the signs that say 'Saloon'.

I let the robot in first, notice no one seems to give a shit about it and then I am assaulted by the worst smells ever. The air burns, cigarettes, something no one had in the Vault. The smell of booze calls to me and I grin, about to sprint for the bar but then I catch a glimpse of the bartender.

"Ooh," I coo, sliding up to a bar stool.

As I hop onto one, my curious gaze seems to make him nervous. He is really. . .really working that rag into that glass.

"Kid," his voice is rough. "Can you just. . .stop?"

I blink. "Oh," I pop my lips. "Sorry, just never seen anyone like you before."

His face goes blank. "You been living under a rock, smoothskin?"

"Technically," I lean onto my elbows, invading his personal space until he has the sense to take a step back. "Say, what's a smoothskin?"

He chuckles then coughs. " _You_ , kid, _you're_ a smoothskin."

Ok, well I guess I should have seen that. I scratch my chin, staring at the shelf of Nuka-Cola behind him.

"Hey, can I have one of those?"

He looks back, sets the glass he was working on down and then places a Nuka in front of me. I smile as he pops the top off, scrambling to catch the top as he flicks it at me.

"Why give this to me," I still cradle the bent cap in my hand as I sip my drink.

He chuckles again. "Its a bottle cap, kid."

I roll my eyes. "I know that, but why did you give me a bottle cap? And stop calling me kid."

He chuckles. "Well, what should I call you?"

I open my mouth, name ready, but think better of it. I know the bartender is concerned by my thoughtful expression but I'm thinking. Do I really wanna use my old name? I mean, no one knows me out here (my dad excluded) so I didn't have to be that old me, the me I wasn't too fond of.

"Hmm," I swing my feet back and forth for a moment. "Call me Minion," I grin, lean forward again. "And what's your name?"

His smile is hesitant and yellow but I can't find myself disgusted. "Gob."

"Well _Goooob_ ," I take a fizzy swig of my drink and show my teeth. "Answer a few questions for me."


	2. II :: Long, Lonely Days ::

I wish I was rich so I could help Gob out.

I mean, he doesn't deserve to be stuck there under Moriarty's dictatorship. Nova either, though she doesn't seem to like me. She didn't want to talk to me as much as I wanted to talk to her. Whatever, I don't like stuck up bitches anyway. Moriarty says she's just mad because there's another pretty girl walking around Megaton but I ask him who the hell he's talking about. I'm not pretty. Don't ever call me that. You _will_ get punched in the face.

"Hey Moira," I pushed back a strand of hair from my face and lifted up my goggles, looking around the room for the practically insane bundle of experiments I have come to know and begrudgingly enjoy. "You have any fission batteries?"

She popped her head over the railing above me, her own goggles pushing back her bangs until I could see so many strands straining to keep to her scalp. She pointed a finger at her chin, cocked her head like a cartoon character and I heard Eduardo (her hired, live-in mercenary) grunt behind me; I almost smiled, but that would be pretty much useless. Moira would ask what I was smiling about and I didn't want to hurt her feelings when I needed her help.

"Ooo," she chirped, relying solely on her hips to hold her up against the railing while she pointed with both hands at the shelf behind her counter. "Top shelf, in the brown box with stars on it!"

I saluted her. "I thank you kindly," I swiped my beer up as I turned on my heel, swilling down the last mouthful as I pulled aforementioned box from the shelf. After rifling around in it with my free hand for a moment, I grinned with a fission battery between two long fingers. "There you are my rusty beauty," I licked the rim of my beer and then dropped the bottle in the trash, readjusting my goggles before I moseyed my way back over to the workbench.

As I cracked open the battery, I eyed the shiny chassis that I had opened to replace a few wires to his speaker system. I had polished him pretty good before fixing that dent in his plate armor, so he was like a mirror now but I had to work with that speaker system. I don't think he'll be able to like have a legit conversation with me but maybe I can get him to play some music or something. He's a cutie and I don't want him to just sit out there and rust, plus that laser was pretty handy. Downed that raider pretty damn easily, figured out what a raider was after telling the old man, Walter, while helping him work on some pipes.

Should have never told any of these people I was handy with a wrench.

"That should be it," I twisted together three new wires, my gloves chaffing. "Now let's see how he works."

I pressed in a few buttons and then closed the panel. After a moment or two of waiting, listening to Moira's welder huffing upstairs, the laser on the metal ball crackled to life and the speaker belched a few incoherent words then wobbled into a hover. It almost shook its 'head' and then beeped once, twice and bobbed happily, spinning around me. I chuckled and tugged my goggles down around my neck, pulling my gloves off and tucking them into my back pocket.

"Well you little shit, you're lucky you saved my ass back in Springvale or I wouldn't have done all this work on you. A lot more work than you think."

It beeped a few times and then froze, chassis humming. Eduardo shuffled behind me, Moira peeked over the railing again, welder in hand. The humming grew louder for a moment and then it belched out one word.

"Hello."

* * *

 

I got a house.

I got a house after disarming a nuclear bomb.

_A motherfucking. nuclear. bomb._

I hope I run into people from the Vault one day so I can show off how useful I am. How I'm not the big fuck up that trails after daddy and someone I can't have. I saved a town! How's that for useless? But right now, I feel useless because I'm sitting on my bed, back against the wall, elbows propped on my knees. I'm worrying my chin between my fingers and I'm sitting in my underwear. The robot – who has yet to be named – is resting on the desk on the other end of the room, hooked up to a portable nuclear charger Moira helped me rig up.

The robot hasn't spoke since the shop and I'm glad for that because, to be honest, it freaked me out a little bit. Since coming from the Vault, it took a lot to freak me out; Hell, ghouls have been around for hundreds of years and people out here are still freaked out by them, but they're cool in my book. Gob is the best friend I have ever had, really. I'm glad I talked to him, he taught me all kinds of things, sort of gave me a brief history lesson of the settlements that had been popping up all around the Wasteland. He told me which mercenary groups were good guys, which were bad guys. I gotta remember to look out for guys in black armor with white paint on the chest. There's these people with a green four leaf clover on the chest, they're Reilly's Rangers and they investigate ruins, bring important invoices and everything.

I would love to join them.

My favorite tip however was about going to Moira's though, I was so happy to get a new gun and some better clothes. She had this armor called Merc Adventurer Armor (though, there is no fucking point in calling it armor) and I love it, so I bought it. Lots of bullets, shiny guns and other things later, I was ready to go out into the Wasteland. Jack offs and raiders would run at the sight of me, this odd dog that is waiting for me outside of town would just have to stay put now that I got the robot working properly. I felt bad for the little eyebot because I couldn't really bring him out to much, the dent in his chassis made him clumsy. Didn't need that out there.

But I did need something out there.

I asked Jericho, he sucks.

I asked Billy, he has Maggie.

I asked everyone, except for Gob, on where to find a bodyguard of a sort and no one had been able to give me a straight answer. I wish he could come out into the Wasteland with me, but oh Hell no, he was under Moriarty's thumb. I had almost offered him every cap for Gob but he didn't seem to care, just said the price wasn't high enough to pay off his debt.

God, I'm gonna kill that motherfucker one day.

* * *

 

"Hey Gob," I ran my finger tip around the mouth of my Nuka-Quantum, feeling the radiation and the sugar buzzing through my teeth but I was surprisingly mellow. "Didn' you say something about a city of ghouls the other day?"

He sighed, looked up at me from under his scraggly brow. "Yeah, Underworld. That's where I used to live before I left to find fortune and adventure," he waved his arms in the air like the care-free guy I know he can be, but then Moriarty cursed somewhere in the building and he hunched back in on himself. "All I found was this place."

I chewed on my lip for a moment, took a sip of my drink, saw the Quantum shine in the reflection of Gob's milky eyes as it slipped down my chin. "Think I could find a partner down there?"

He raised what was left of his eyebrow. "What about that little trash can you fixed up?"

I waved a hand. "He can't go out yet, his power core needs some tweaking. I was thinking of swinging him by Rivet City if you said Underworld was a prime partner crop."

When he didn't say anything, I finally really looked at him and saw the nervousness in his shoulders. It made me cock my head, then I jumped when Nova tumbled down the stairs, hitting her head hard on the far wall. A man came tumbling down after her but so did Moriarty and he grabbed the man by the back of his neck, obviously cutting off some air supply by the way the stranger scrambled and gagged. Nova stumbled to her feet, rubbing her own throat and adjusting her dress, hiding behind her red hair when she saw me staring; Moriarty was busy dragging the 'patron' outside. Gotta give it to him, Moriarty didn't put up with any letches in his bar once they laid an unkind hand to Nova; had to be something behind that. But this wasn't the Vault and I wasn't interested in the gossip.

"Gob," I mumbled, he looked over at me. "Think you could tell me how to get there," I asked with a pouty face, something that often won Amata (or, once upon a time, Suzie Mack) over in the past.

I slapped myself when Gob turned away to pull a few beers from the fridge for some people at the end of the bar; they looked at me weird. But I just shook my head and rubbed my now tender cheek, giving Gob a convincing smile when he returned his attention to lil ol' me.

No thinking about the Vault, especially Amata.

He hesitated and then nodded reluctantly, leaning onto the counter. "Okay, so here's what you gotta do. . ." I listened to him for a moment, catching what I needed but mainly I heard _'It should be possible to hit Rivet City on your way'_. After all that, he made me freeze with the added, "But please be careful, Min, you're one of the few friends I've got. And I don't wanna lose you."

It took me a moment but I curled my lips up in the corners like a cheshire cat I saw in an old holotape once. I pushed up onto my knees in the stool, sticking my ass in the air and reaching over to pat him on the shoulder; I heard someone whistle behind me and chuckled, sliding back into a modest sitting position. Want the truth? That noise made me sick. The insinuation made me want to tear that motherfucker from asshole to elbow but I had to play the nice girl this round.

"Don't worry about me, Gobby! I can take care of myself," true, that contradicted half the reasons I wanted a partner in the first place (the other half of course being that I was just plain lonely sometimes), but what else could I say to him?

_I'm a lonely, lonely girly, Gob._


	3. III :: Asshats & Detours ::

How did I live for so long without the sun?

I sighed contentedly and wiggled around on the rock I was currently sun-bathing on, listening to the water hit scummy rocks a few feet away. The sun was amazing - and so were sunglasses - with the way it warmed my skin in ways those 'Sun-Ray Imitation' rip offs in the Vault never could.

There's only one draw back to my little relaxation time.

The Paladin that won't quit tossing insults my way.

"Carpet muncher."

Oh, just because I'm not a part of there dumb little club, I get to be called names?

I breathed in deeply through my nose and tried to melt into the rocks. "Tea bagger."

"Damn civilian, you need to take that trash can and move on."

Trash can was catching on, even with strangers. I pushed up my sunglasses and looked over at my little shiny ball, seeing the green light on his charger blinking slowly. Almost done. I settled back into the rocks, hearing that assholes partner chuckling. I already told them, I'm not going anywhere until ED-E (yeah, he actually does have a name. Came on this license plate Moira sent over to my house before departing Megaton - turns out it had been attached to the little guy) was fully charged.

We had been walking with no trouble towards the Citadel - of course, I didn't really know what it was until the asshole told me - when we were jumped by some raider assholes, four of them. I got hit first and while I was down, ED-E fired his laser, which drained him after just one shot.

Which also brings us to our current predicament.

" _Move on_ , civilian."

"Fine," I snapped, sitting up and aggressively gathering ED-E in my arms. "No wonder the whole Wasteland hates you assholes," I spat on his shiny right boot.

As I stomped off, I heard the other guard laughing but I didn't know what at. Me, or my treatment of his partner. Either way, I took it as him laughing at my cheekiness and laughed myself, skipping along the edge of the Potomac.

* * *

 

"Welcome, my friend! I am Tobar the Ferryman, and this fine vessel is the Duchess Gambit!"

So yeah, there's _this_ guy.

I raise an eyebrow, holding tight to ED-E's charger while he floats above my head; I had planned on swimming to Rivet City instead of taking the metros (boo metros, boo!) so I had to turn him back on, couldn't carry his heavy butt across the water, too deep. But then I saw the smoke and thought _'hey, look, fight!'_ but it turned out to just be this wacko and his boat.

"We're just on port from Point Lookout but we're getting ready to head out again. Interested?"

I shift my weight. "I might be. What's so special about Point Lookout?"

Tobar grins. "You look like a woman who's been around the Wastes," _why yes, yes I do_. "So I'll cut right to it. In Point Lookout, you'll find fresh-grown food, mysterious locales, and treasures as-of-yet un-looted."

Sounded like my kind of place.

"But," he started again. "Keep your wits about you, because there's more than a few exotic critters and inhospitable locals. So stay here if your too dainty to rough it!"

Boy, he sure knew how to pitch woo to me. _Treasure, danger_. . .jeez, it was a paradise. But even he looked apprehensive about it so I shook my head, taking a step back.

"No thanks, maybe next time you make port, hmm?"

He smiled. "Of course, of course! But how ever will I contact my most promising customer?"

I rolled my eyes but grinned; this was a man after my own heart. "I'll give you the signal to my Pip-Boy, just use a radio whenever your in town again."

His eyes sparked; great minds think alike and all that jazz. "Will do, will do. . ."

* * *

 

"Look, can you fix him or not?"

Doctor Li - or _cunt_ , as I like to call her - places a steady hand against ED-E's chasis, rubbing her chin with her free hand. She shuts the panel after adjusting a few wires then nods, looking up with hard eyes.

"Yes, I suppose so but I will be paid."

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "Fine, how much?"

"One thousand caps, give or take a few."

I sputtered. "O-One thousand caps?! Are you drunk?"

She narrows her eyes. "No, I'm not. That's a discount, because of your father. Speaking of him, where is he? Have you even tried to find him?"

My turn to growl. "Look lady, can you fix my robot or not?"

"Yes, just pay the thousand and he'll be good as new."

"Fine," I snap, pulling my coinpurse from my back pocket; I count out the correct amount, leaving a decent thousand left for myself, and give ED-E a sad look. "I'm gonna leave him here and pick him up in a few days, gotta stop by Underworld."

Li wrinkles her nose as she moves ED-E to a rolling surgical table, I follow her to a corner of the room. "A _ghoul_ city? Whatever could you want down there?"

"None of your goddamn business," she pops open a panel, hooks a few wires to my little trash can and I scratch at the back of my neck. "I'm gonna go now, take care of him."

"I will," she doesn't even look up at me.

I huff, which ruffles my bangs, and turn on my heel. This whole city is a snobs paradise, even the poor people are snobs. It smells all rusty and. . .musty, all the salt water makes for bad breathing air. I want to get out of here as fast as possible. In doing so, I swing by the market, shell out fifty caps for some stimpaks, bubblegum and ammo. I do want a new gun but not from this place, too expensive. Maybe I can try my hand at sniper rifles. But that'll be saved for another day.

I wad up a shiny gray wrapper and toss it to the side as I thump my way down the metro stairs, chewing loudly on my gum. At least with ED-E I had someone to talk to, now its so quiet I want to claw my eyes out.

No sooner does the thought emerge, a bullet whizzes past my right ear. I hiss, feeling blood already leaking through my hair. I duck and roll, pulling my switchblade out of my boot and jamming it into the raiders skull. Blood sprays out from her teeth and into my eyes but I keep going, taking the pistol from my holster and hugging the dead raider tight as shield. I fire at her partner as I slowly stalk towards him, the extra weight hard to move with and my knife beginning to slip through her bone.

"Little bitch," the raider spits, his skin patchy and festering with infection.

I stop and give him a look of offence, which actually manages to stun him for a moment. "Excuse you, but manners."

I point my gun down and shoot him twice in the kneecap.


	5. IV :: Smokes Breaks and Mirelurk Cakes ::

At 9:15, he smokes a cigarette.

Be it in the a.m. or the p.m., it doesn't matter, it is his set time; he will give Ahzrukhal that much, at least he doesn't make Charon stand in the same spot 24/7. But sometimes, he won't let Charon take that smoke break in the morning and all day, he's jonesing.

For over seventy five years, Charon's life consisted of waiting for that smoke break.

Today is one of those days, when Ahzrukhal is hosting and has Charon keep those hawk eyes on everyone, so by noon his fingertips are thrumming on his thigh and jerking; his mouth is more dry than usual. The excitement is circling around someone who has yet to enter the Ninth Circle of Hell. A young woman in raider armor, calling herself Minion. To Charon, she sounds like a freak show, but he wants that damn smoke break so she turns into background noise.

Its bad enough he has to haul Patchwork out by the scruff of his neck - again. When the slobbering ghoul crumbles to the floor, Charon spares a glance over the balcony, hearing a human laugh. It isn't throaty and hacking, its fluent and almost musical, someone who is truly full of jubilation and not high as a kite.

It that human girl, the one all the buzz is about. She's discussing something with Winthrop while he points up at a vent just under the railing outside of Carol's Place. She has a tool belt around her hips and is now softy chuckling; Charon can't hear over the blaring of Maybe behind him, though it is steadily muffled by the constantly swinging doors.

"Charon."

Winthrop continues to talk but the human looks up, sees Charon, and fucking _winks_ at him. She winked. And then acts like nothing happened, returning her attention to Winthrop and shaking her head before drawing shapes in the air with her fingers.

"Charon!"

The ghoul is snapped to attention by the familiar, gruff pull of his employers voice. Ahzrukhal is lighting a cigarette and Tulip is trying to avoid touching him as she stumbles out of the bar; God, Charon would risk it just to snatch that cigarette away.

Ahzrukhal flicks away the match he had used and blows smoke at Charon, who doesn't even twitch. "Its 9:15."

 _Yes, yes smoke break_.

Ahzrukhal snorts when Charon produces that flimsy, faded green cigarette case and pulls out one with a small pair of scissors. When his employer disappears inside the bar, Charon takes to the steps. Outside the doors, he clips off the filter to his cigarette and lights it, tucking the scissors back into place and sliding the case into a back pocket. He blows smoke up into the cracked teeth of the giant skull above him and relishes the silence of the lobby.

He didn't know if he'd make it through the next stretch between breaks, so he'd suck down as much nicotine as possible in ten minutes.

* * *

 

Underworld smells like ass.

I mean, hot, sweaty, raider ass with a side of Jet fumes.

But, I can't let that show on my face because ghouls have a sense of camaraderie that normal people just don't have. And its just me against a whole city of them and no matter how badass I am, I just know this can go downhill fast.

But, Carol is a real sweetheart and reminds me of Old Lady Palmer in the Vault; she was probably one of few genuinely nice to me. Butch was a douche because of his fuck up of a mom and the Tunnel Snakes followed his lead because of hormones. Suzie Mack and her little gaggle of pretty girls were just too good for a queer like me. And Amata? Well. . .

"Sassafras!"

Carol and Greta gave me an odd look as I sat at the bench in the corner; Greta was leant over a cooking pot in a rigged, massive hotplate. I ducked my head and continued to nibble on my Mirelurk Cake, a snack from Carol before dinner. I couldn't explain to them that me yelling out odd things was a common way for me to forget her, even if it was only for just a little while.

_I wouldn't let her follow me out of the Vault._

_I wouldn't let_ any _of them follow me._

"Why are you in Underworld, sweetie," trust Carol to be the one to break the silence.

I perked up then, remembering why I was here for real; it was most definitely not to munch on their food supply. "My friend Gob -"

"Gob?!"

"Ah, shit," Greta murmured as Carol bounced around her counter.

I flinched as she snatched up my hands and stared in true terror at her droopy smile. I was no snob - obviously - but all of my senses said that a persons face was most definitely not supposed to sag at that angle.

"Gob?! You know Gob?! How is he? What is he doing? Did he find his treasure -"

"Carol," I spat out. "Calm down. Yeah, I know Gob and he's. . .okay, I guess. Owns his own Saloon now," _rest in Hell, Moriarty, hope that 5.56 caliber bullet is snug in your chest_. "He said I might be able to find. . .well, I guess a bodyguard would be what I'm looking for," not that I, Minion - Wasteland Badass and part time Explorer - needed a bodyguard.

Greta snorted and I snickered at the scolding look Carol sent her for cutting her off. Greta placed a hand on her hip and looked back at me, still stirring that damnable stew. I liked Greta, she was a tough old broad and if she weren't tied in here with Carol, I'd ask her to be my 'bodyguard'. They were too cute to try and pull apart, ya know? I didn't even think live existed in the Wasteland, I was still stuck that it only remained in old holotapes crooning about broken hearts and the films promoting prince charming.

 _Fuck prince charming, I can save myself_.

"Hate ta disappoint ya kid, but there ain't anyone here that could even be considered a bodyguard."

Carol finally cut in. "There _is_ Charon."

Greta rolled her eyes. "She couldn't pry him out of Ahzrukhal's slimy fingers."

Okay, confusion. I looked to Carol, brow furrowed. "Charon?"

 

Carol pat the back of my hand. "Charon is one of the oldest ghoul's in Underworld."

"Mercenary too," Greta murmured, lifting her ladle to her lips and humming. "I swear if this stew was a person, I'd get naked and make love to it, I swear. . ."

"Greta," Carol scolded, but I doubt it was for her remark on the stew; Hell, if it tasted as good as it smelt, I might strip and join her. "Charon is a mercenary, yes, but he has a contract with Ahzrukhal and Greta's right. . .it'd be hard for him to give his precious Charon up. Charon is the only thing stopping all of Underworld from killing that nasty old man."

I quirked my lips in the corner. "Well, everyone has a price," and I'd find his after I ate.

No sense in bargaining on an empty stomach. And I had to bargain, this shady 'Ahzrukhal' had slaver written all over his shadow. I may be a hateful bitch, but even I don't condone slavery.

"Hey Greta," I murmured slyly after Carol had moved to assist one of the ghouls seated in their common area. "Tell me what you know about Charon and his contract."

* * *

 

"Romeo One this is Romeo Actual, do you have visual on the target?"

"Romeo Actual, this is Romeo One. Target is immobile and detained. We'll be back to base within the day."

"Good work Romeo One. Bring that hardware home."

Dust is kicked up as a piercing scream echoes between the walls of the slight canyon they were in. Bright blue eyes flickered up to the two men towering over her, fear in artificial eyes.

They were dressed in traditional army fatigues, dark blue camp and a heavy duty bullet proof vest. They cradled assault rifles, one of them had a Gauss Rifle on his back but it went unused. The female soldier kneeling on her back was busy applying the ninth handcuff to her forearms, the exposed wires on her forearm sparking where a bullet had pierced and torn through the fake flesh.

"You're monster," she sobbed with no tears; she could not produce them, she wasn't capable of it. "How can you do this?! I just want to be free!"

"It does mot matter," the female is as robotic as she was made to be, hauling the rogue to her feet. "We have to do this."

"You don't have to do anything," her feet tangle in themselves. "No one makes us do these things - just say you killed me and let me go!"

"Shut up," the female snapped, shoving her into the backseat of the rusty Corvega.


	6. VI :: This Is Your Heart On Drugs ::

He has me up against the wall and I can't seem to say no.

And, before you say anything you perverts - this is most definitely _not_ a booty call.

No, this is me flapping my big mouth and upsetting the very man - or ghoul - I came in here to help.

So good ol' asshat Ahzrukhal got a little snippy and I lashed out - I offered the prick a fair price for the contract. Not like I came in here guns blazing and told him two caps for the hulking monster in the corner. Though, with the Jet making me bounce and talk smack all over the place, I'm sure that ticked him off.

Or maybe it was the whiskey I poured into his lap.

I don't know, I just wanted that tent in his suit to deflate and subtly isn't my key.

Obviously.

"I'm gonna eat your fucking heart out," I screech as Charon's fingers tighten around my wrist, right hand holding my head sideways against the wall.

Ahzrukhal paces into my field of vision and he cradles a cigarette to his nasty lips, blowing the smoke in my general direction; my eyes burn.

"Kid, ya shouldn' have come in here startin' shit," he sighs. "Now look at the mess I have to clean up."

I do find a teeny bit of pleasure in my destruction of the joint. Charon may have been big and bad but I was short and fast, plus hopped up on drugs that make you gofaster. The odd amount of strength I possessed didn't hurt either and now three out of seven tables were busted, two chairs were just splinters on the floor and every bottle of liquor on the shelf was busted in thick pools across the old tile.

"I'm sure you'll have your good lap dog here do the cleaning," I snarled, literal foam peeking at the corners of my mouth.

I was so fucking _thirsty_.

Ahzrukhal chuckled and ashes his cigarette. "Probably right," he paused to lick the filter of his cigarette. "But what to do with you now?"

"Letting me go sounds like a good option."

"Cheeky little bitch," he snickered. "Almost hate to have Charon snap your neck."

"Then don't," not like it really mattered to me. Subconsciously, I think I've wanted this since I got out of the vault. "If I make it to where he doesn't kill you the moment the contract switches hands? Would you go for that?"

Ahzrukhal hummed, ashing his cigarette on his own floor. "Nah, I don't."

I roll my eyes. "Look, fuck it then. Just let me the hell go and I'll be out of your - well, you don't really have hair, now do you?"

He chuckled. "You're a waste kid," he jerked his chin at us and immediately Charon's hold loosened. "Let the dumb bitch go. We have more important things to worry about."

I sigh in relief when the blood begins to rush back into mg wrists and slump into a chair that isn't on its side and rub my wrists. The stench of rotting bodies and alcohol is just overwhelming in here, I can't stay much longer but I just can't leave Charon here. Especially when I see him grab a broom without even being told; its routine, that much I know now and I can't wait to slice that asshole from asshole to earlobe.

"Oh Ahzrukhal," I purred, walking backwards towards the door. He looked back at me curiously, Charon was watching beneath his brow. "I'm gonna make you eat your own heart before this is over. I'm not leaving without him."

He chuckled and smirked, sliding back behind his bar while smoke curled demonically around his face. "Yeah kid, sure."

* * *

**_Third Person POV_ **

* * *

 

Its 9:15 p.m. and he's on a smoke break.

Not a worry in the world and he likes it that way, though the junkie smooth skin from earlier plagues his mind. She wasn't just all talk, she was a lot of action, a little bit of both. But she's not a threat, not one that he can see.

He almost sighs as he takes a slow drag from a dwindling cigarette, eyes lazily observing the cherry at the end smoldering the tobacco around it.

Once upon a time, he harvested the stuff.

The relative silence around him is broken by the snarl of a laser and he ducks before the beam can hit him. It blasts against the double doors behind him and leaves a smoking crater while trumpet music echoes around the room, giving him a hard time trying to pin where the attacker is.

Charon growls and drops his cigarette, grabbing his shotgun and pointing it towards the doorway into the lobby, firing twice as he makes a steady approach; over two hundred years and the recoil is still a bitch.

As he chases an invisible attacker, inside is a game of assassin.

The rooms are quiet, save for the crackle of an old radio behind Snowflakes station - who is out for the night reeking of Jet fumes - and the snores from the bunk rooms. Winthrop clicks off the light to his room and turns off his terminal, stretching with a yawn as he unzips his jumper.

He swears, for a moment, that he hears the smooth skin cussing but she had left earlier that night.

The doors to the Ninth Circle open and softly close, making Ahzrukhal raise what's left of an eyebrow but he just goes back to counting out caps. Several stacks of shiny, clinky, coins that he would worry about rolling in later. Long day, easy pay thanks to Winthrop and Tulip having a good haul from the ruins; plenty of scrap metal to keep the water filter together for awhile. That spunky smooth skin was supposed to be helping fix it before she ran off. Ahzrukhal snorted at the thought, smart for running off. He didn't want to have Charon kill her, he liked that Minion.

And then he didn't.

The blade snuggled deep against his jugular and Ahzrukhal dropped the cap in his hand, hearing it bounce off the counter to the floor. He heard her chuckling, felt her press herself against the curve of his back, like she were trying to spoon him.

"Clever girl," he murmured. "Not clever enough."

She lurched back as he twisted with a cleaver coming close to her sternum. Her right arm, left leg and chest were still invisible with the stealth boy attached to her Pip-Boy. All he could see of her face was her grinning mouth, all pointy teeth.

The thin switchblade in her hand was twirled between her fingers and she struck out, missing his throat by inches. Ahzrukhal smirked and slammed the cleaver downwards, aiming for Minion but getting it caught in the wooden shelf behind her as she swerved to the right. He grunted as she slammed her elbow into his ribs, fingers slipping off the handle of the cleaver to hold the spot radiating pain.

"I told you," she snarled. "I wasn't leaving without him."

He groaned, leaning back against the counter. "Thought you said you were gonna eat my heart out, smooth skin."

She chuckled and raised the switchblade above her head. "That too."

It came down on his sternum, easily tearing through the flesh and she jerked the blade out, coming down over and over again. Ahzrukhal almost screamed but he wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction. He'd had it coming for a long, long time and honestly he was just sick of it.

The Lone Wanderer gutting him was like karma.

He had a split second second of consciousness, through the pain and the utter realization that he was indeed going to Hell. . .he saw her holding his heart in her hand.

And he saw her take a bite.

* * *

**Minion**

* * *

 

I didn't swallow, I spit the rubbery chunk of meat from my mouth and watched Ahzrukhal's lifeless body slowly slide to the floor.

"Rusty," I muttered, wiping the back of my arm over the blood dripping down my chin.

Pretty sure it didn't help. . .like, at all.

I drop the heart to the floor and pick up my switchblade, rinsing it off in the sink before closing it up and sliding it down into my boot. I lick my lips and grimace, taking a whiskey from the shelf, blood making it slippery in my hands.

"Bottoms up you bitch," I grumbled, leaving a bloody ring around the neck of the bottle.

I screw the cap back on the whiskey and set it on the counter, in the blood, and get to work trying to find that damn contract. All I find is a handful of caps - I put them on the counter with the others - and a key. I roll the key around in my hand, look over at the safe and then mosey on over to it.

The contract is inside, along with a cigarette case filled with jet and three syringes of Med-X; I tuck that under my arm for later. I grab Charon's contract and slam the safe shut, stepping over Ahzrukhal's body and stopping in front of the pile of bloody caps. I just rake those into the box and grab my whiskey, strolling out of the Ninth Circle with a smile on my face.

Cerberus isn't even patrolling right now so I slip out of Underworld without one eye to stop me. I pause in the center of the lobby when I hear the burst of laser shots and let out a shrill whistle between my teeth, waiting while I sip my whiskey.

ED-E zooms in from near the front doors and hovers over my head. I smirk when I see Charon come lumbering in, burn marks on the leather pads over his shoulders and an angry look on his face. He freezes when he really sees me and the horror on his face makes me laugh.

"Not that good a bodyguard," I smack my lips and he raises his shotgun but I flash the rolled up parchment and he tensed again. "Yeah, I'm the Mistress now. Hate that I left such a mess back there but damn, it felt good to see him die."

His eyes flicker over me, his shotgun slowly lowering. "You sent the Eyebot after me," he murmured.

" _Distraction_ ," I sang, striding past him with ED-E following closely. "Now, come on. Doctor Preston is _not_ gonna be happy to see me."


	7. VII :: Sunshine ::

 

Okay, so we don't make it all the way back to Rivet City before I finally give out.

We were actually just strolling through the tunnels, me whistling as I kicked through the piles of ashes ED-E had helped me make on the way back to Underworld to kill that fuck. When a human is turned to ash by a robots laser or something like that, like whenever you used a laser rifle, the ashes were really beautiful. Especially when they rained down on you and soaked into the blood on your arms. Am I the only one that finds the image soothing?

Anyway, my dumbass forgot that I had been running on a heavy puff of Jet for nearly twenty four hours so halfway through the main tunnel, I collapsed.

"Uh. . ." I mumbled, looking around as I lay there, like a fucking damsel in distress, aching from my knees connecting so hard with the rubble we were scrambling over. "I hurt myself."

Charon sighed and I just glared up at him, though I really couldn't blame him for being annoyed by me. I had killed Ahzrukhal while he was still under his employment - I had actually done something I was pretty sure no one had ever managed with Charon. He's a big, dangerous motherfucker and I, crazy bitch from Vault 101, only had a Stealth Boy and a robot to kill his employer. I felt pretty accomplished, ya know, but that was kind of dulled by the sudden wracks of pain and sticky-dry crackling and squelch of blood coating me.

I raised a hand, flourishing it like I had seen ladies do in old holotapes. "Assistance, sir," I pouted, staring up from under my brow.

Charon huffed but bent down and grabbed my hand with surprising grace and gentleness, making me squeal and grin as he hefted me into his arms. I got this smug little look on my face, wrapping my arms around his scaly, scabby neck and enjoying the ride. ED-E beeped and whirled around us in distress but I batted him away with one hand as Charon started walking again.

"Don't mess up my ride, trash can," I scolded ED-E and he gave a woeful beep; if he had a head to hang, it would be hung. "Oh stop it, you big baby. He's just carrying me and you would have shot him," I paused and looked to the burnt hole on Charon's shoulder guard. "Okay, you already shot him - and that was rude, I told you to just distract him."

"I still do not understand how you got past me," Charon grumbled; it was the first time he had spoken since we entered the tunnels.

I shrugged and grinned at the side of his face, seeing as he wouldn't look at me, focusing on the steps he was carrying me up. "All that matters is I got you and killed that fucker," I sighed, laying my head against his shoulder. "Happy he got to see me fulfill my promise of eating his heart," a sighed airily.

"Are you insane?"

I cackled and then squeaked when he kicked at the chain link separating us from the sweet glare of the dying sun outside the metro. I wiggled a little and then side, bunching up to where he had to drop my legs. Weird little pangs shot up my muscles when my boots slapped against the concrete, but I didn't really care seeing as I was now free to open the gate; he kept a hand on my waist, which gave me this sudden funny feeling. I looked up at him but he was still staring ahead, his jaw twitching as he waited for me to go I suppose.

"I'm not insane," I finally defended myself, kicking the chain gate closed behind us; ED-E zoomed above the stairs, whirling in a circle for a moment before he took off further ahead. "Well, I don't think I am anyway. The Overseer insisted I get tested but even he couldn't order my dad to do the testing. So I'm just firing blank here," I chirped and shrugged Charon off at the top of the stairs, feeling a bit more grounded and stable than back in the tunnels.

"Overseer," Charon questioned and I arched an eyebrow at the sudden conversation skills he sprouted.

"Yes," I said slowly, kicking up dirt as we walked towards the ramp up to the Rivet City bridge. "Bitch from 101, remember," I sighed again, like I was just a carefree girl where in reality the guards were slowly raising their rifles at the blood rolling over me. "Whoa, whoa, whoa guys," I raised my hands, smiling; it didn't seem to be helping. "Minion. Came through here about an hour ago to get the bot that's playing. . .trumpet music?"

ED-E swooped in, belting out that music and swirling in circles before he suddenly stilled and shuddered in front of me. Everyone waited with bated breath to see what he would do, but I had an inking and it was already sending chills over my skin.

"Hello, Minion."

* * *

 

"Charon, he's not gonna do anything," I said for the umpteenth time since we made it to the Clinic.

Charon hadn't let ED-E out of his sight, keeping that shotgun of his on full view and in his hands. ED-E was hovering above my head, actually trembling as he faced Charon, who continued to glare at the bot. I shouldn't have told him that the voice didn't belong to ED-E, that I didn't know exactly who the voice belonged too because now he was on edge and basically begged me to let him just shoot the robot until he didn't even have the ability to spark anymore.

"Ow, dammit," I snapped at Preston, who actually chuckled despite the nervous tension in the room.

"Just shut up," Preston chided, stitching up the little gash in my shoulder; who knew Ahzrukhal actually managed to cut me open a little. "You feeling that Vivitrol yet?"

I nodded softly, rolling my head on my shoulders. "Yeah, I'm starting to feel like complete shit," I sighed. "Sneaking a shot to cure my addiction into me. . .shame on you, doctor."

Preston rolled his eyes as he dabbed a disinfectant around the cut he was working on. "You make it sound like reverse and I got you addicted to something," he shook his head. "Minion, you're priorities are all mixed up.

"Tell me something I don't know," I paused, watching him place his bloody tweezers down on the rolling tray. "We done," I questioned and Preston nodded, tugging off his gloves and tossing the into a pan of disinfectant. "How much do I owe ya, doc?"

Preston waved a hand at me. "Call it payment for getting Pinkerton's notes," he arched an eyebrow. "Don't leave the city tonight, I wanna check the wounds again once you're clean, see if I missed any."

I gave him a half-assed salute. "Okie dokie, guess we'll be at the Weatherly. There any rooms open?"

Preston nodded. "Seagrave finally pulled enough together to buy that small room on the lower deck so his room is now open. Just tell Vera to put it on me - but don't try to take advantage of my generosity, kid. You pay for your meal and the soap, shits expensive to have brought in and I live here, I won't pay for it again."

I chuckled and shimmied towards the door, firing imaginary guns at him with my fingers. "Yes sir," he rolled his eyes at me yet again.

We waves us away and I needed no further insistence, I was dead on my feet and desperately seeking that big fucking bed I has seen once before in Seagrave's room. It belonged to Vera and she had never done anything nice like give someone her hotel furnishings so I was pretty sure it was still there.

And I was right!

"Oh fuck yeah," I meweled as I stretched out on the bed, arching and moaning like I was having the best orgasm of my life. "Yeah. . .I could get used to this beauty, _mmmm_ ," I tightened my fingers in the silky sheets, casting a quick glance to Charon, who was shuffling awkwardly in the corner of the room.

I chuckled but closed my eyes, sighing as I stroke the sheets, trying to imagine the last time I had, had such a nice place to sleep. Even my bed in Megaton wasn't this nice, that thought alone strumming up a new handful of memories. That's where I had felt this bed before, it was scavenged from a Vault. You didn't just find these sheets and this comfort anywhere in the Wasteland, not even at the old motels in the ruins. This was too much luxury and I suddenly wanted to bite Seagrave and Vera's throats out for scavenging away something familiar to my childhood.

"Mistress," I opened one eye, but only to a slit, seeing a very uncomfortable Charon looking to the right. "Can you please cease the act you are putting on? It is making me uncomfortable."

 _Cute_.

"Of course," I kicked my right leg straight up into the air and then jerked it down, using the momentum to hop to my feet. "I need a shower anyway,care to guard me? Its on the lower deck and the lock doesn't work to the women's single."

Charon still looked uncomfortable but nodded softly and I snatches up my pack from where he had dropped it, slinging the hatch open. "ED-E, stay here," he let out a high pitched beep. "None of that, Mister. I already have this hulking bastard, I don't need a big ball blocking anyone else's way. Guard the room."

He let out a determined series of beeps and then went to hover in a corner of the room, prepping his laser at the door before I shut it.

Charon followed dutifully as I led him down into the lower deck showers, whistling and spouting nonsense along the way. Maybe it was that shit Preston injected me with, but despite the wear and tear of the past day, I felt incredibly chipper.

"Okay," I murmured as I peered down both ends of the hallway, seeing only one of the guards on patrol; it was late, so I had no doubt everyone else was asleep. "Just sit here and look _scerry_ ," I pulled out an old John Wayne accent as I slipped into the bathroom.

I could hear Charon grumble and chuckled as I started to strip, adjusting the water temperature as I went; I loved being naked. I folded my bloody clothes up in the corner - okay, I more like tossed them into a decently organized pile - and placed the bright green dress I wore between washes on the sink, sighing as I stepped under the spray. Not even my house in Megaton had a shower head, I had to take a bath instead and I hate baths.

"I have to work something out with Moira," I murmured, stretching for my soap.

* * *

**Charon**

* * *

 

He has to actually take care of this one, considering she seems a bit off her rocker or decidedly insane.

He's still stunned she had managed to out smart him, he's also ashamed to have fallen for such a simple tactic as attack and distract. That robot was actually a very advanced fighter, even for a robot. It had dodged each of his own attacks, landing more shots in a tight space than Charon even managed.

Outsmarted by machinery.

His trainers were rolling over in their graves.

Charon did as Minion said and curled his lip up at the strawberry blonde tweaker that started towards the bathroom. The man jumped and hesitated, his right shoulder hitched higher than the other before he turned on his heel and stalked away, the movement reminding Charon of a Protectron.

" _You are my sunshine_. . ."

Charon stilled and he almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing, lulled by the gentle pull of a rather talented voice. She could sing like that? He hadn't heard a voice like that in nearly a hundred and fifty years.

Charon swallowed thickly as he peered through the faint steam of the bathroom, eyes tracing the rag she had obviously cut from a t shirt, running soap over her skin as she hummed.

" _You make me happy_. . ." She cranes her head back, letting water cleanse the soap from her, sending blood rushing down the drain. " _You'll never know dear, how much I love you_. . ."

Charon shook his head and tore his eyes away, chewing softly on his tongue. _Not again, he wouldn't go down_ that _road again._


End file.
